


“The front end isn’t running the show anymore. It’s time you learned that.”

by Caffiend



Category: Curtis Everett fandom, Snowpiercer (2013)
Genre: Attempted Rape, Child Labor, Dubious Consent, Edging, F/M, Gentle Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-01-30 21:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21434695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend
Summary: This is part of @jtargaryen18 "Snowpiercer" challenge to write a dark tale for dirty, filthy, delicious Chris Evans as Curtis Everett. I picked the line: “The front end isn’t running the show anymore. It’s time you learned that.”
Relationships: Curtis Everett/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 103





	1. “The front end isn’t running the show anymore. It’s time you learned that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Due to an overzealous self-appointed moral arbiter, I have changed all my stories to "Author chooses not to use archive warnings," because I refuse to label my stories - incorrectly - as rape. There are moments of dub-con and I will do my best to tag effectively and issue specific chapter warnings if I feel they might be triggering. To the anonymous "reporters" who continue to harass writers in our community, I hope you become better people and learn to govern your own lives instead of attempting to control everyone else's.
> 
> Thank you as always for reading.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Plain Jane visits the tail end of Snowpiercer, where she is actually called "the Devil." It takes some effort to be the most hated person on the Train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of @jtargaryen18 "Snowpiercer" challenge on Tumblr to write a dark tale for dirty, filthy, delicious Chris Evans as Curtis Everett. I picked the line: “The front end isn’t running the show anymore. It’s time you learned that.”
> 
> By the way, are we friends on Tumblr? Stop by and chill for a moment, let's be buddies! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/caffiend-queen

I am the most hated human being on the Train. 

I know it, walking between two of the biggest guards, swaggering in their black armor and enjoying how these poor souls shrank away from them. No one would look me in the eye, some shuddered superstitiously as I passed as if I was the shadow of evil. Well, I am, aren’t I? The monster who steals their children. Taking their fragile hand and pulling them away from screaming parents, whispering in their ear and trying to distract the little ones from the meaty “thunk!” and the agonized wails of their mother or father being beaten into submission. Sometimes, to death.

And now the ragged souls that made up the tail end of the train shuffled and moved restlessly, like a herd aware that a predator had just crept into their midst. A monster searching for their youngest and weakest to carry away. The vision hit me like a fist, and I stopped for a minute, forcing down the self-disgust threatening to swamp me. 

“Miss, are you all right?” It was the older one, Franco the Elder, the captain. He was looking down at me with a frown as his partner and pretty little boy-toy - as if that wasn’t obvious despite the rules against fraternization in the Snowpiercer Security - pouted and stared off into space.

I waved a hand. “I’m fine. Get moving, we’re on a schedule.” His face hardened again and I was glad. He didn’t know it, but I hated him as much as this crowd of filthy, hungry people did.

But they hated me even more.

Mason was standing on her little box, that irritating, querulous voice of hers yammering something about disobedience and punishment, the crazy witch’s two favorite words. As she started in on “Personnel needed in the front,” my hand tightened on my tape measurer and I gritted my teeth.

_‘It’s the only way. No self-pity, you don’t deserve it.’_ I never spoke during these excursions to the back. I’d stab a painted fingernail at one cowering child and then another, pulling the fabric length of the tape measurer down one short arm and then a leg. One ragged boy was the right size. I had to have another before leaving the tail section...

Another little one, a girl of maybe six, was staring up at me, wide-eyed. I gave her a brisk smile and shook my head. Her mother burst into tears of relief as she pulled the girl against her tightly. I searched the filthy train car. There had to be one … a right-sized one. I could see a woman shuffling slightly in the gloom, carefully keeping face-forward. 

Ah.

Two tiny legs are just barely visible under her long coat. I swallowed against my shame and self-loathing again and pointed at her. There was screaming, howls of anguish and desperation. Begging me not to take her baby. Ignoring the guards eagerly wading into the crowd to club and bludgeon, I leaned down and stared into the boy’s eyes, huge and brown, pupils dilated.

“You always calm them,” Wilford once chuckled, “you’re a snake charmer. You’d be admirable in a circus, making the animals tremble.”

I’ve never seen a circus. I was too young when Daddy and I boarded the Train.

When the little one took my hand, I reached for the hand of the other child and straightened to lead them from the car, from their families, and into the Hole. Only one man was brave - or stupid enough - to lean in threateningly. I knew him, I’d heard the guards complain about him more than once. Curtis something … very tall, close-cropped brown hair and a beard that ran up to his protruding cheekbones. He was handsome but not now, his face twisted with hate and his eyes … those ocean-colored eyes alive like an avenging angel's. He hated me most of all.

“I hear there was … unpleasantness today.” Wilford’s voice was smooth and musical, and he leaned back in his mahogany chair to savor a bite of steak, watching me closely.

Forcing a smile I shook my head, bracing myself to take another bite. I was probably the only other person on the Snowpiercer who had eaten beef in the last decade, but it tasted like ash.

He took a sip of his Cabernet, swirling it in the crystal glass, inhaling the delicate aroma. “Well?”

“No, Conductor. No. They were-“ I shrugged casually, “just the usual. The disgruntled unwashed.”

Wilford chuckled indulgently. “Finish your meal.” He took a perverse pleasure in keeping me plump, knowing my large hips and soft stomach made me even more disgusting to the tail section. As if I was flaunting my well-fed self in front of their desperate hunger. Just as much as he’d enjoyed starving me before, keeping me shrunken and stunted for as long as he possibly could before I could no longer take my place in the Sacred Engine. “You can feel it though, Jane. You do.” 

I carefully swallowed my mouthful of steak and daintily wiped my mouth. Poor table manners upset Wilford. 

“Feel what, Conductor?”

He had an odd, half-smile on his face. “Rebellion. It is imminent.”

The handsome, furious face of Curtis was the first thing I thought of, but I opened my eyes wide, snake-charming him. “They may make their ridiculous little plots, but no one would ever be insane enough to challenge you, Conductor. Never you.”

Wilford burst into laughter, a rich-sounding indulgent chuckle that scraped inside my skull and caused a headache to burst fully-blown from my cerebral cortex. Yes. I knew what the cerebral cortex was. I was allowed to read all of Wilford’s books in his huge library when I wasn’t with the children.

“Jane, Jane. Plain Jane. Didn’t I require you to read The Art of War?” His amused, contemptuous expression made my fingers grip each other in my lap. 

“I did, Conductor.”

He leaned back, pressing his manicured fingertips together. “And my notes?”

“Yes, Conductor.”

“What life cycle takes place every seven to ten years in the tail section?”

Life cycle. He was a monster. “E-every seven to ten years, another rebellion forms, the Tailers rising up and trying to break out of their cars.”

Wilford had an indulgent smile as he looked at me, his trained monkey dancing for him. “And why do we perpetuate this cycle, Jane?”

“It keeps the population in the tail end of the train busy, crafting plans and scenarios. And when they finally rise up…” I swallowed hard, trying to keep dinner down. I couldn’t begin to imagine the punishment for throwing up his Wagyu beef. “Their numbers are culled to a manageable amount, put down by the Security forces to prove to all that no one can change the order of things.”

“And then?” Wilford prompted - oh, he loved hearing this part.

“Then your agent in the tail end brews plans for the next rebellion, and the cycle begins again.”

There was silence for a moment before the soft chime of a bell, a discreet reminder of “shift change!” as Wilford whimsically referred to it. I rose gratefully and he frowned. “Be seated. I did not give you permission to leave.”

I looked down. “Of course Conductor. My apologies.”

We sat, Wilford idly paging through one of his books while I gripped my hands together. They knew what it meant, the chime. They knew I would come for them, get them out of their holes, at least for a while. They were waiting for the hatch to open. They would be wondering why I wasn't there. Did I forget them? Did I not care? Would they be cramped in the monstrous bowels of the Snowpiercer until they died? Did they-

"You are excused."

Bowing my head, I whispered, "Thank you, Conductor. Good evening." Rising, I walked through his expansive chamber to a particular panel in the floor. Tapping gently, I opened it to see Manny, tiny for eight years old and dull eyes fixed on the complicated series of bearings in front of him. Leaning in to offer him my hand, I whispered, "Come on, sweetheart. Come get some rest." 

__________________

Curtis was feeling adrenalized, bouncing on the balls of his feet with agitation. The guns. _There were no bullets!_ This changed everything! "It's time, Gilliam, now!" The man before him was a spindly amalgamation of missing limbs and fierce gravitas. 

"My boy. Everything must be in place, we have one chance, one opportunity-"

"Did you see what they did to Andrew?" Curtis pulled off his filthy stocking cap, restlessly walking the four paces it took to the end of Gilliam's tiny chamber, and four steps back. "Where did that bitch take his son? What are they doing to the kids?"

Gilliam took off his spectacles, rubbing his eyes. "We will get them back. We will find them."

Thinking of Tanya's agony as Timmy was ripped from her arms, the beating she took - Curtis ground his teeth together. They would kill that kidnapping bitch and every one of those guards. They would kill them all.

___________________

I was rocking Andy and humming when I heard the first reports given to Wilford, anxious, low tones speaking rapidly, his responses calm and measured. Nothing ever ruffled the Conductor's calm. Except for those times when ... I turned my face into the boy's greasy hair. No thinking. Not about then. I still bore the scars and often my back would throb like he was cutting into it again. So his long-awaited rebellion had begun. The tail-enders were rising up. They'd taken the worker's cars, gotten through the butchers who waited with their axes and knives - with torches! - and best of all, they'd captured Mason. She would be a strong hostage to get them through the next cars. I tried to remember. The aquarium, the gardens, ugh, the beauty salon cars. I was forced to go there three times a week to satisfy Wilford’s demands that I was always perfectly groomed, not a chip in my manicure, my hair shiny and styled just right. I hated the beauticians with the fake eyelashes so heavy their lids were always at half-mast. The rich passengers who went there every day, whispering when I came in. But they were too afraid of Wilford to say a word. My heart went cold. The school car. They wouldn’t hurt the children, right? They were all spoiled and believed the myth of the Sacred Engine, but they wouldn’t- not the little ones.

And then I heard the whispers, “Gilliam’s got some big fucker with him - Curtis Everett? He’s leading the rebels, and-” Burying my smile in Andy’s hair, I felt the first, cautious stir of … optimism? Even though I still had a part to play, I would gladly die. If they cut me down to get at Wilford, I would die with a smile on my face. Looking down, I could see my newest boy was finally asleep, tear tracks running clean stripes down his filthy cheeks.

“Jane. Jane, Jane. Plain Jane. Come here.”

Hastily smoothing my hair back after putting the child back in his compartment, I hurried out to see Wilford staring out the window, smiling at nothing. "Yes, Conductor?" 

He glanced at me, "You heard the report, I know."

I folded my hands in front of me demurely. "Yes, Conductor."

He put his hands on my padded shoulders, almost paternally, unless you knew him. "You still have a job to do, don't you, Jane?"

"Yes, Conductor."

"And why is this necessary, Jane?" He seemed almost amused, his tone light.

"Because..." I swallowed, wetting my dry lips, "Because the ecosystem must be preserved, Conductor."

_________________

I was sitting Andy and humming a rhythmic tune, shaping his fingers in a complex, repetitious pattern. Tapping my foot in the same rhythm, I murmured in a low, soothing voice to the little boy. He'd stopped crying a few hours ago, and I was anxious to teach him the system I'd created, how to work the pistons and levers while using self-hypnosis to keep him from all the things ... all the things that had happened to children before in the Hole. 

"JANE!"

I'd not heard Wilford raise his voice like that for years, and I scrambled up, hurrying into his chamber while smoothing my hair and the pink suit he was so fond of. "Yes, Conductor? 

He was pacing in his blue silk robe, the belt swirling and fluttering as he walked. His eyes were alight, even though he held that urbane, self-assured expression he always had. “They are close, only a car or two away.”

I wasn’t sure if I should scream with joy, or start weeping with the knowledge I would likely be dead soon. Just as long as the children were freed first. “I’ll get ready, Conductor.” 

My hair was shiny and perfect, flowing down my back and pulled back with a pink ribbon, the way Wilford liked. My suit: immaculate, no runs in my stockings. And the AK-47 I was gripping was cleaned and serviced and held a full clip. The rebels had already leaned by now, I was sure, that there were indeed still bullets left on the Train. Tucking myself into a corner that made me invisible, I waited for the tail-enders to burst through the last barrier. They didn’t know this yet, but the massive doors that led to the very front, to the chambers of the Sacred Engine, were bulletproof. Likely blast-proof, though there were no grenades on Snowpiercer. I could hear the shouts and screams getting louder and tightened my grip on the gun. And as the last connecting door ripped open and bodies began shoving their way through I laid down a line of fire, bullets sparking and clanging around the steel compartment. There were screams and a dark-haired whirlwind of a man rolled in and behind something. I recognized those black eyes- they’d pulled Namgoong the engineer from his stasis tube. They just might defeat Wilford after all. Nonetheless, I shot him in the shoulder, hearing him yelp as he went down. I cleared my throat. 

“Mr. Everett. The Conductor would like to speak with you.”

The huge man stepped through the shattered remnants of the door, staring at me in confusion. “You…” he hissed.

I inclined my head to the massive silver doors that were sliding open. Jaw set, he strode in, I followed with another quick staccato of suppressing fire. It would be the last thing I ever did to assist Wilford. It was up to this filthy tail-ender now.

“Curtis, everyone has their preordained position, and everyone is in their place except you,” Wilford’s smooth voice greeted our ragged visitor. 

I gripped the AK-47 tighter to keep my hands from shaking, watching the interaction between the men. My heart twisted watching Curtis’s horror when he realized his mentor Gilliam - the Sage of the tail section -was the second architect of the sick cycle that kept rotating through the desperate people trapped in the back, destroying everything he’d held dear. Wilford was focused intently on the younger man, his fascination, his fondness wavered between sexual and paternal. Just like with me.

I knew how this was going to play out- at least the vision from the monster who’d raised me. But no one had ever gotten this far before. Curtis’ vivid eyes shone out from his filthy face, enraged, then contemptuous. Then … teary-eyed, standing in the massive chamber, arms out wide without touching anything I am sure for the first time in the last 16 years we'd been on this steel prison. Then my heart started stuttering as Wilford put a hand on his shoulder, then the back of his head. And he _let_ him. He let the monster _touch_ him. Then Wilford said the thing I had never imagined. He wanted Curtis to take his role as Conductor. 

“Without you, Curtis, humanity ceases to exist.”

It … oh, it almost looked like Curtis, this gigantic, furious man who’d survived fed by his rage and hate toward the front end was almost … he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t believe the filth Wilford was feeding him, please, he wouldn’t….

And then his head lifted, and his lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl and I knew he was the one.

“Mr. Everett!” I said urgently, ignoring the growl from Wilford. I kept the gun trained on the monster as I circled around them both. “There’s something you need to see.”

“Jane, Jane. Plain Jane. You will be silent, or you will take their place.” It was a hiss, not even actual speech from Wilford and his face was a death mask of fury.

I knelt clumsily - those stupid high heels! - and ripped open the hatch. It was Timmy wedged between the gears and cogs and he was mindlessly humming the rhythm I’d taught him as he looked up, vacant eyes trained on Curtis, who let out a hoarse sob.

“You- they- Jesus _ Christ...” _

“It was necessary, Curtis.” Wilford was still trying to regain control. “The parts wore out. Small, but crucial pieces engineered from the wrong alloy. There was nothing to replace them, no metal that could do their job-”

One long arm had already hauled Timmy from his place. Instead of clinging to Curtis, he ran to me, wrapping his skinny arms around my waist. “There’s more,” I managed to speak calmly, edging toward the front, holding the little boy with one arm and the machine gun with the other. 

“Plain Jane should know!” Wilford’s voice was rising. “It was her father - her father was responsible for the sloppiness, the stupidity. A pathetic welder, and he could have been the one to bring down the final ecosystem, the only life left on the planet? She was the first to enter the Sacred Engine. And now she is the one to bring in the children to this magnificent purpose.”

I managed to get my hand loose from Timmy’s desperate grip long enough to lift the second monstrous hatch. Curtis was there in a second. 

“M- Molly?”

I’d taken Molly two years ago, she was almost too big now, almost ready to escape this nightmare, her little fingers were bent and twisted like she had arthritis. She looked at me, piteous and confused, and I reached in a hand. “Come out, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t hear the chime…” she mumbled in her hoarse little voice.

“You’ll condemn all life on the Snowpiercer?” Wilford’s voice rose magnificently, focusing the power of it on his intended successor. “Allow the Sacred Engine to fail? Kill us all?”

“If you’ve talked with Namgoong,” I said urgently, talking over the monster’s voice, “you know that there is life on the outside. We can stop the Train in a stable section of track and-”

With a growl, Wilford pulled a gun. But … he was too elegant? The Conductor never raised a weapon? I stood there stupidly, a perfect target until Curtis yanked the AK-47 from me.

“The front end isn’t running the show anymore. It’s time you learned that.”

And he sprayed the monster with bullets, two of them blasting through the windows and into the shrieking howl of the wind. Then there was an explosion that knocked us all off our feet, sliding across the floor, no longer pristine white, painted red now with the monster’s blood.

“Goddamnit!” snarled Curtis, “I told Nomgoong to wait! To-” 

Another explosion and we both began crawling rapidly for the door, pulling the children behind us. Sure enough, the engineer was busy fastening another chunk of putty-like substance to the outside hatch. Oh, _no._ He’d gotten his hands on Kronole. He was likely stoned half out of his mind. The blocks of poisonous green paste were not only a hallucinogen, but they were also highly flammable and he was trying to blow a hole in the train.

“He’s going to derail the Snowpiercer!” I screamed, frantically scrolling through my memory and trying to think of where we were on the track.

Without a moment of hesitation, Curtis lifted the AK-47 and shot him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the smut is in the second chapter. I know, I'm disgusted with myself, too. Every chapter should have smut! But with the uprising and Jane being the devil ... you know ... it got all crowded here.
> 
> Thank you to my beautiful @misreall who is my very first and only Beta, and I think we can all agree I needed her. I love your guts, mis. But you knew that.


	2. Navigating the After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jane and Curtis navigate the After.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first challenge, thank you to @jtargaryn18 for such a fun exercise. Dirty, filthy Curtis is definitely inspirational.

The Snowpiecer did not derail there, but we didn't make it to the safe section I'd been hoping for. The engines began to fail spectacularly without their tiny human machinery and the Train went off the tracks, but onto a hillside. And while there were bent and twisted cars, huge gouges ripped through the steel, an astonishing number of people survived, along with the greenhouse and livestock cars. And ironically, all the Tail-enders.

The takeover of the rest of the passengers was quick. Most of them were sheep, wailing in confusion and wandering around, too stupid to seek shelter and waiting for someone to take care of them. I pulled out the boots, pants and warm coats I'd stealthily collected for the children. Curtis was clearly in charge, striding around, creating order and calmly shooting people stupid enough to challenge him.

The crying parents of Molly and my other "spare" Manny rushed up to us, pulling the little ones away. I stood with my arms around Andy and Timmy, my heart sinking as we all looked for their father and mother to come for them. Another filthy survivor from the tail end stood in front of us, a gun in hand. "Their parents didn't make it," he hissed, "they died trying to save their kids, you fucking bitch!" He raised the gun and hit me in the head. The last thing I heard was Andy and Timmy calling for me.

__________________

“You’re finally awake.”

It was a flat tone, unwelcoming, and part of me just wanted to go to sleep. Ideally, forever. 

“I know you’re awake, so stop fucking around.” Curtis was close to me, close enough that his breath stirred the hair over my face. Rolling over painfully, I tried to take stock. All my limbs worked, there was something crusty on my face that turned out to be blood from - oh, god, that hurt. I hadn’t hurt like this since…

“I’m awake,” I croaked. “You wanted me conscious before you shot me?”

His dark brows drew together. “No, we’re not shooting you. Yet.” 

I huffed a little laugh and tried to sit up, which was a mistake. Swallowing painfully against my stomach trying to surge up my throat, I looked around. I was in one of the front cars, titled slightly which told me it was at least partially attached to the track. There was a fire in the little ornamental fireplace that had never seen anything other than a flower arrangement or two. I was still wearing my ridiculous pink suit jacket - someone had taken my warm coat - but at least they’d let me keep my pants and boots. There was a cut on the back of my head, it was still sluggishly oozing blood. “Where’s Timmy and Andy?” I asked.

“They’re with our people again,” he snarled, “what’s left of their family.”

I absently rubbed some of the flaking blood off my face. “Molly and Manny?”

A shadow crossed his handsome face and he looked ... conflicted? “They’re asking for you. Their parents are trying to help them and they keep asking- what the fuck did you do to them? How did you mess with their minds like that?”

I finally got upright on the bed, putting a hand against the wall for balance. “I taught them self-hypnosis. Not to forget about their parents, but to keep them from going insane in the Hole.”

“The Hole?” Curtis wasn’t pointing a gun at me, at least. When I started coughing, he even found a battered cup and poured some melted snow into it. “Wilford - that sick fuck said you were the first.”

“Thank you,” I managed, gratefully finishing the water. “My father was one of the welders for the Snowpiercer’s engine. The alloy - the mistake with the metal wasn’t his fault. That was the engineers. But he kept trying to fabricate replacements when the pistons started breaking down.”

“When was that?” His face was still cold and unfriendly, but I could tell he was interested.

“About four years into the journey, I think. I was four when we boarded and daddy said I was eight when he-” I pressed the cup to my chest, trying to make the pressure ground me. “When the Conductor killed him. That’s what he made me call him. He was so angry because my father couldn’t make the repairs hold. So he put … he made Franco the Elder hold him while he shoved me into the Hole. I think he meant it as a threat for my father, but I’d watched him try to fix the pistons so many times … I pressed the right levers and kept the sequence going. They dragged him off and the Conduc- Wilford told me he’d let him live if I kept working. I never saw him again, though. So I don’t know how long he was alive.”

Curtis looked strange, like someone had punched him in the stomach. “How long did you stay in the Hole?”

“On and off at first, just to stabilize it, then for longer and longer, I don’t know how much every day, twelve, maybe fourteen hours? I taught myself the pattern so my fingers could do it without my mind being … in there. Wilford fed me once every other day to keep me little. But after a while - I think he told me I was thirteen - another series of pistons failed below the ones I was working on. I was too big to go in any deeper. He talked about cutting my legs off so I would fit … but then another piston series failed further up in the engine. So he put me there and they took a child from the tail section to take my place.”

“Will?” he said, sounding as sick as I felt.

I nodded and was instantly sorry for it. Pressing my hand against the back of my head, I said, “Will. He was so little. And at first he c- cried all the time. Mason used to hit him so I taught him my mind trick to help him. It worked for a while, but they picked wrong- his arms were too long and he-” For a while, there was nothing but the sound of Curtis’s harsh breathing, but he waited. “They took another child.”

“Brook.” His voice was hoarse, too.

“She screamed and screamed when they put her in the Hole- they hadn’t even cleaned up the blood…” my voice broke again. “They drugged her with something and for a while, it kept her calm. I taught her the pattern, too. But she only lasted a few months. The drugs made her clumsy.” I looked up at him then. I was dry-eyed. There was no more crying for me. Not for years. I didn’t deserve it. "I convinced Wilford to let me pick the children.”

His face twisted in disgust. “After everything you’d seen? After watching the others DIE?”

“I wanted them to LIVE!” I shouted back. “They were going to keep taking the tail-end children no matter what I did. I- I measured the spaces and picked them. James. Caro. I disobeyed Wilford and washed all the blood out of the compartment, I took it away. He punished me but…”

“What did he do?” His handsome face was so close, I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, that his lips were full and oddly pink.

“It doesn’t matter.” I looked away. “When the children got too big, I would put them in other jobs on the train. We all made a pact. No one could tell anyone what happened in the Sacred Engine. Wilford would have slaughtered all of them.” Lifting my chin, I looked him in the eye. “I can tell you where they are. Every one of them.”

After I made a list for him, Curtis held it in his hand, looking down at it for a minute. “Lie down again,” he ordered brusquely. “Get some sleep.” 

My head hurt so much, I didn’t even argue, just nodded and curled into a tight ball, trying the keep as much body heat as I could. He threw something over me and I was asleep before he left the compartment.

_____________________

"You really think that crazy bitch is telling the truth?" Lucas, his new "right-hand man" was openly disbelieving when Curtis handed him the list.

Irritated, Curtis pulled his beanie over his head, heading out into the snow. "Yes, I do."

"She's just trying to save her fat ass!" Lucas was still protesting.

"Go take three of ours- people who would recognize the kids and GO LOOK FOR THEM!" He'd lost patience with this arrogant shit. For a moment, the last glimpse he'd had of Edgar seared through him. He'd lost nearly everyone who'd fought with him. He could not fuck this up. They deserved better.

_____________________

"Wakey wakey, you miserable cunt."

I woke abruptly with a harsh slap to the face. There were three women and a man leaning over me. Taking a deep breath, I sat up. "Where's Curtis?"

Another slap, this time on the other side of my face and enough to knock me into the wall. "You don't get to say his name!" the youngest-looking woman hissed, "You don't dirty it in your fucking mouth!" 

I had a feeling these four were freelance, but it wouldn’t matter in the end. I’d be just as dead. The man roughly hauled me up by my silly pink jacket, tearing it, and looked at the others. “Where do you want to do this?”

The oldest woman - she looked to be in her 70’s but life was hard in the tail section - held up a knife. “Outside.”

They dragged me out the door and through several feet of snow, finally dumping me like a bag of trash in a little circle of trees. Absurdly, I was wildly happy to be outside. Wilford had been lying. The world was coming back. I could hear the slow drip of water coming from somewhere in the trees. My happy moment ended abruptly when a boot set viciously into my ribs. It was the old woman again. “Do you know who I am, you murderous cunt?”

I couldn’t even be angry at her. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

She kicked me again. I was holding my ribs and wheezing, trying to get breath back into my lungs. “I’m Brookie’s mother! Do you remember her? DO YOU?” She was waving that big knife wildly, and it sliced through the arm of my jacket. I gritted my teeth. 

“Yes,” I managed, “she was the second one they stole. She had blonde hair a- and warm brown eyes like yours.” Tears flooded my eyes and I blinked stupidly. Crying? I didn’t get to do that. “She tried so hard. Brook was brave.”

“Don’t you talk about her!” the woman was angrily wiping at her eyes, “You don’t do that!” Our eyes met, both of us crying.

The man growled, grabbing me by the hair. It was the same creep who’d hit me in the head with his gun. “Fuck this. Let’s just end her.”

One of the women grinned, “Do you want to hurt her first, Lucas?”

“Hurt- yeah…” now he was grinning and I put my head back in the snow. Maybe one of the other women would just put me out of my misery first. But when he ripped open my jacket, exposing my lacy white bra, I started flailing. Not like this. Please. The woman who’d suggested this disgusting little scenario grabbed my arms, sitting on them while he yanked at my pants. I was kicking furiously but he was stronger. My numb fingers started tapping out the familiar pattern in the snow, humming in my head.

Brook’s mother stood there, arms limp at her sides, still holding the knife. “What are you doing?”

Lucas laughed as if it should be obvious. “I’m going to fuck her. And then we’re going to fuck her up."

She shook her head. “Wait. we didn’t…”

“Oh, come on, Sheila!” snapped the one sitting on my arms. “She deserves it. She deserves-”

“WHAT. THE FUCK. Is going on here!” It was Curtis, his deep voice even lower with his rage. He stomped over with a little group of men. “What are you idiots DOING?”

They all backed off, Lucas reluctantly getting off my legs, letting go of my pants and I shakily tried to draw them back up. “We’re ending this! Sheila deserves justice! All the mothers deserve-”

“I didn’t know about the- I didn’t know they were going to rape her,” Brook’s mother said slowly.

I heard more footsteps crunch in the snow. “Jane? Jane are you okay? What the hell? Move!” I felt an arm slide under my shoulders and lift me. 

“James?” I rasped. He smiled down at me, his fingers absently tapping a rhythm on my shoulder.

“Let’s get you out of here, Jane.”

_________________________

So then I was put back in bed, this time James wrapped my head to stop the bleeding and patched the cut on my arm. We decided to ignore the scraping feeling in my ribs until I was coherent enough to figure out if they were broken. James was sitting on the bed talking to me when Curtis walked back in. He looked angry, which was what I assumed was his default factory setting.

“Hey James, don’t you have shit to do?” He was putting more logs in the tiny stove, “They’re still looking for the other kids.”

I hid a grin to see James bristle. He was sixteen, maybe seventeen now and everyone grew up fast on Snowpiercer. But he looked down at me and squeezed my hand. “I’ll check on you later,” he said, before glancing up at an unsmiling Curtis and leaving.

Silently watching the man move around the room, I realized something. “Did… did you take a bath? You’re so clean!” Sure enough, he scowled at me.

“You don’t think us dirty bastards in the tail end deserve to be clean?”

“Of course you do,” I said, pleating the blanket between my fingers. “I just didn’t know the water system was still working.”

“Well, it is.” He took off his coat, his back to me. “First shower I’ve had since … anyway, of all useless fucking cars to make it, the sauna and spa cars are in perfect shape. Imagine that. Not that any of your fancy front car friends will be seeing them for a long, long time.”

“I don’t have any friends.” I said it without thinking and then cringed. Could I sound any more pathetic?

Curtis only grunted and sat on the bed, jostling me. “Move over.”

“What are you doing?” I was trying to scoot away but my head was still making me clumsy.

“I’m going to sleep,” he answered evenly. “This is the first time I’ve shut my fucking eyes in four days. This is my bed and my compartment. So you can move over or sleep on the floor.”

I was so tired and confused that I actually tried to get up, thinking he wouldn’t want to be near someone like me, but with an irritable sigh, Curtis hooked one long arm around my waist and yanked me back. “Stop moving around and go to sleep, Jane.”

My last thought was, “That’s the first time he’s said my name.”

___________________________

Jolting awake from a nightmare where he watched Edgar’s throat be slit, over and over, Curtis rubbed his eyes, taking a second to remember.

They’d taken the Snowpiercer.

Most of the tail section was alive.

The girl next to him was the monster they’d all been so eager to kill.

Rolling over onto his side, Curtis looked her over. Smooth, clean skin of course. Not a single callous, though he could see a few of her fingers were bent oddly. Picking up a lock of her hair, he smelled it. It was soft and shiny, and it smelled like flowers, or something. Asleep, she looked innocent and pretty, her plump cheeks making her look even younger. How old would she be? Tracking through her story the night before, he figured out that she was twenty.

Carefully edging closer, he put his longer body against her soft one, sliding his hand over her ass. He squeezed it, long fingers digging into her flesh. The feel of this - a soft woman’s curves - he’d never imagined feeling it again. He’d been sixteen when he boarded the Snowpiercer and had only slept with two girls. Aside from frenzied, terrified fucking for the first few weeks on the train, he’d avoided sleeping with anyone after that. The idea of having a baby in the tail section… swallowing hard, he put his cheek against her soft hair and fell asleep again.

__________________________

When I woke up again, my first, confused thought was that one of the little ones had crept into bed with me, needing comfort. Then I realized that this was a very long, hard body that neatly eclipsed mine. And part of him was very hard, and hot, and pressing into my lower back. Because of Wilford, I was acquainted with that portion of the anatomy, although this one seemed ... bigger? I wasn't sure if there was a lot of variety, but... Curtis shifted restlessly and his arm tightened around my waist. I bit back a squeak when his rough hand slid over my borrowed shirt and cupped my breast. His fingers were warm, they rasped against my skin and made me shiver a little. But it was a nice shiver. It was enough to wake him, because his breathing changed and he stiffened for a moment before realizing where he was and relaxing against me. Curtis's hand started moving with more intent, experimentally squeezing my breast, one finger idly batting my nipple back and forth. I didn't know what to do. Should I turn over? Ask him to stop? Cover his hand with mine? I wasn't used to the sensation, his hands were much bigger and rougher and he squeezed me a little clumsily as if he was new to this. Not that I could claim experience. No experience I wanted, anyway.

_______________________

Curtis felt the warmth of this girl, pressed against the front of him. Sleeping was the only time someone wasn’t touching him in the tail section, just his narrow bunk wedged into an endless row of them, people snoring, crying, turning back and forth. It was never quiet. He hadn’t seen a naked breast since his clumsy coupling as a teenager. He’d seen people fuck, there wasn’t any privacy in where he’d been. But skin? The girl’s jacket had been ripped off during her attack. That rapist asshole was officially demoted, he vowed, attacking a girl? He had to crush any idea that rape was acceptable in this new order by making an example out of Lucas, even if no one would have any sympathy for his chosen victim. He would beat the shit out of that asshole so everyone was clear about the rules.

Jane, he reminded himself, her name was Jane. Wilford mockingly called her “Plain Jane,” he remembered that, but she wasn’t at all. Long, shiny curls and thick lashes. What color were her eyes? Smooth cheeks and full lips. And curves. His hand left her breast to slide under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin, the line of her waist and hip, experimentally squeezing now and then. “So fucking soft,” he murmured, not noticing he’d spoken out loud.

He could hear her breathing change and realized she was - Jane was - awake. But she didn’t move and he was fascinated. 

In the low light of the morning coming through the windows of the car, he could see how beautiful a woman’s body was. He dimly remembered the girls he’d slept with, but this was a woman’s form. The long curve of her spine, the way her shoulder blades moved like fragile wings. He watched the path of his hand as it pushed down her pants to see frilly white undies covering her ass. He growled a little under his breath. Holy god, they were beautiful. Unimaginable. Lacy little underthings that did little to cover her generous globes, and he gripped one and squeezed again. The pale skin reddened a bit and he could see the marks of his fingers on her. His hands touching all this perfect, bare skin. Impatiently, he nudged a knee between hers, ignoring her little gulp as he spread her legs enough to run his fingers along the lips of her cunt. She was smooth - did she shave? Two calloused fingers eagerly slid between them, feeling the wet and heat of her opening. She was clenching on him, and Curtis groaned, goddamn, she would be so tight. He could slide into her from behind, right now and take her and her tender thighs would squeeze him while her pussy strangled his cock. He could faintly hear her gasping and he pressed harder, pushing his hips into her silky ass and pressed his lips against the back of her neck, gently biting down. The girl stilled and his cock swelled harder. Like an animal, holding still for her mate. He ran his teeth along the tendon in her neck, sucking the thin skin into his mouth. Enjoying her gasp. Enjoying how she wiggled, trying to keep still but his hands were making her tremble and shake. This was what it was like to have a woman in your arms … bare for you, so much satiny skin!

_____________________

I was trying so hard to be quiet. I didn't even know why. At first, I was scared. Curtis was wrapped around me, all these long arms and legs and I was enclosed within him, my back against his hard, broad chest and his hard- oh, it was _big. _His hands were gigantic, rough, and I knew he could tear me apart with them but he wasn’t hurting me. Then his thick fingers slid to my center and I stiffened. They slid along me and I was embarrassed to feel myself getting slicker. His middle finger went inside me, just a bit. In and out and in again, going a bit deeper. His knee was pushing my legs apart and I heard him groan as his thumb circled around the top of my slit and I nearly came out of my skin.

“Shhhh....” his mouth was by my ear, still sucking at the skin of my neck. “Don’t move, be good for me.” He groaned again and I could feel it vibrate down my spine. One huge hand splayed across my stomach, holding me in place while his fingers were sliding through my folds. He was playing with me- seeing what made me moan or arch and then his finger pressed down on something inside me while his thumb pushed against my pearl and my legs wrapped around his and I gasped. “That’s what I was looking for,” he growled, “that’s so pretty. Do it again.” With another pass of his fingers between my legs, I did as he wanted, my voice was embarrassingly high-pitched. I grabbed at his wrist but I couldn’t pull it away, he just laughed. “Ah, ah,” Curtis bit at my ear, “you’re not going anywhere. Just be still. It’s been a long time since-” he stopped talking abruptly and his fingers moved faster in and on me and I moaned again. His fingers were as wet as I was and I could feel him breathing in my ear, he was making a pleased sort of growl and my hips arched and I was so close to something and then-.

His fingers pulled from me and his hands moved away, then the warmth of his body and I shivered, trying to pull my pants up before getting the nerve to look at him. Curtis was towering over me, shrugging into his coat. “Stay here,” he ordered, and stomped out the door. I pressed my thighs together, groaning.  
  


____________________

Striding along the train, Curtis yanked his stocking cap over his head. What was he doing? Fingering this girl, she used to be the devil to his people! The analytical part of his internal conversation spoke up. “Everything she’s told you so far has been true. She hasn’t even fought you. She’s expecting you to kill her.” He flushed, an emotion sweeping him that felt a little like ... shame? Spotting one of the women tasked with finding the older children on the list, Curtis called out, “What’s going on? Did you find any of the missing kids?”

She looked up, her newly clean face actually glowing. “All of them, Curtis. We found all of them. The girl was telling the truth. They want to see her.”

_____________________

It was a couple of hours later when my new captor returned to the car. I’d dressed again, finding a sweater left out for me and some thick socks that I gratefully pulled over my numb feet. No more heated cars, I thought wryly, but on the bright side, no more high heels. I was trying to get a comb through my snarled curls when Curtis opened the door, his face unreadable. I watched as he closed and locked it before heading for the washbasin and pouring in some of the melted snow. When I realized his hands were bloody, I walked over. “Are you all right?” He looked up, those vivid blue eyes assessing me before he grunted. 

“I’m fine. Just making a few things crystal clear.” Picking up a towel, he said, “Go sit on the bed.” 

I stood there with my mouth open like an idiot, but he was already removing his shirt, scarred skin moving over smooth muscle. How could he not be covered in goosebumps? Of course, he was used to being cold. Curtis took an abrupt step toward me and I squeaked, stepping back hastily and landing on the bed with a little bounce.

“Take off those pants.” He was removing his own as he spoke and he was not wearing underwear. He was huge, I wasn’t mistaken. It was hard and red, tight against his stomach. One hand ran up and down it while the other went to my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Seeing my pretty little bra, Curtis stopped and knelt in front of me, fingers sliding up my ribs and tugging on my nipples before his bearded face pressed against them, his hot mouth fastening over one breast, yanking down the lacy cups and then pulling it off me, careful not to tear it. I’d expected him to be rough with me but he wasn’t, at least not intentionally. He was just so much bigger than me. He had my pants off and his mouth moved rapidly down my stomach and pressed against my lace-covered mound. He breathed me in, shifting those stupidly wide shoulders between my legs when I tried to close them. I could feel a gust of hot air when he blew against the wet panel of my undies, and then they were off and his scratchy, bearded chin was pushing against my wet opening as his lips fastened on to my-

“Oh! Oh my goodness, what are you-” my protest cut off because he was suckling my folds into his mouth humming in a pleased way when my hips came off the bed. His forearm came across me and shoved me back down to the bed, those ocean colored eyes looking up at me and apparently enjoying my reaction because he purred - there was no other word for it - he purred into my slick center and continued teasing at me with lips and tongue before digging a thick finger up inside me, stroking along experimentally, seeing what made me shiver and try to arch against him. 

“I want you to come, Jane.” His deep voice actually startled me as he rubbed his face against my wet thighs. He added another finger inside me and dove in again with his mouth, making me shriek and then whimper as I did as I was told. I felt hot all over, skin flushed and prickling as he slid up me again, his white teeth flashing against his dark beard. “Good girl. Now I’m going to fuck you. You’re so tight. I’ll try to go slow but…” he groaned as the wet tip of him circled against my passage. His thumb came down again, stroking featherlight touches over my pearl and watching me intently as he started pushing in. He was big in a way I couldn’t prepare for and it hurt, but he didn’t scare or disgust me, like… Angrily pushing away the thought, I stared back. His hips moved in a deliciously practiced way, moving up and down, circling, drawing back and pushing in. I didn’t know what to do with my hands and his came up to hold them together, long fingers wrapping my wrists and pressing them over my head. 

Curtis looked down and chuckled, both of us groaning as it made him move inside me. “Halfway in, Janey. Halfway there.”

I whimpered, I didn’t know how anything else was going to fit. I could feel my walls stretching stubbornly, resisting for a moment before his slickened head pushed through them. He paused for a second to wrap my thigh around his waist and then with a snap of his hips, he shoved all the way through me. The coarse hair at the base of him was tickling against me, I was so sensitive and so full at the same time. He sucked another mark into my neck before starting to move inside me, just a bit, a few inches in and out. 

“Beautiful…” he said hoarsely, and I looked at him, wide-eyed.

“Oh, no. I’m plain-” He cut me off with another thrust and it took my breath. When I gasped in again, I tried to explain. “I’m plump. I’m Plain Jane, I’m- oh, OH!”

“You’re Janey,” Curtis’s voice was deep but I could barely hear it, his mouth still fastened to my neck. “And you’re delicious. I don’t know-” he grunted into another thrust, moving faster and faster now that I was wet enough to help him, “how to be smooth or careful, but you feel so fucking _good_…” the word drew up as he threw back his head, panting in pleasure. I timidly lifted my head and put my mouth against his Adam’s apple, sucking it lightly. Then he pushed his lips against mine and kissed me for the first time. Clumsy, both of us and eager. I looked down to see his ass tighten and flex as he pushed in and out and the sight made me moan and gasp. His furred chest was rubbing against my nipples, making them hard and tight and almost painful. His long thighs were caging me, knees digging into the mattress and pushing harder.

“I want to feel you squeeze my cock,” he managed to grunt, brows drawn together and staring at me - seeing something desirable, lovely, surely not me - “I want you to come and say my name. Be good for me now.” His thumb starting circling my pearl again before squeezing it gently between two knuckles and I let out a startled shriek, arching my back and being slammed back into the mattress again and once more and then I felt something circle the base of my spine like electric shocks, it felt like how a sparkler looked. I remembered waving one on the Fourth of July, a long time ago. And then the shower of sparks exploded and tingled and sizzled through my center and I gasping and finally managed to call out what he wanted. “Curtis, this is- I- OH!” He shoved viciously once, twice, a third time before yanking himself free from me and coming over my stomach, hips thrusting mindlessly and smearing himself all over my soft belly.

We pressed together panting, he was heavy but he was so warm. Curtis’s calloused fingertips ran over my skin, squeezing my hips and stroking my arms and legs, he couldn’t seem to stop touching me and I’d never felt so bare before. So open and exposed, every part of me touched and it felt wonderful. I didn’t know sex could feel like this. Good and warm. Feeling him on me and safe.

“I’m gonna…” Curtis was panting too and I felt oddly proud I made him that way. “I’m gonna want to be inside you again. I can let you rest for a minute but I want you. Inside you, you’re so fucking hot. I’ve never felt warm. Not once in as long as I can remember. I’m warm inside you.” I cautiously put my arms around his neck, feeling the muscles bunch and flex there. “You’ll stay here,” he said, kissing under my ear. “You’ll stay with me.”

"We'll keep each other warm, Janey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was thinking about how to write Jane, and misreall clarified it for me. She said: "Jane shouldn't swear. Not even in her thoughts because she is still one of the children. She would only identify with them since to everyone else she is a monster or a tool to use. She's still the girl who climbed into the engine and never came out. She is a child which is why the children she takes trust her - she's one of them. When she plays with the blanket you can see it. Even how the Conductor treats her - feeding her, dressing her up - would reinforce this. Being with Curtis is her first chance to be an adult, and now that the children are safe she can grow up." Thank you, dear mis, for explaining it so much better than I can.


End file.
